When the Lion is Not Asleep: Thoughts On Writing a Prequel
In the jungle The mighty jungle The lion sleeps tonight While my husband and I were traveling in the bush of South Africa, we were told that male lions sleep about 18 to 20 hours per day. After eating a kill, most often obtained by the hard-working female, males might sleep a full 24 hours. The female is fairly close behind and sleeps somewhere between 16 to 18 hours. Contrary to the above song lyric, they hunt in the twilight, and they are more likely to be sleeping when you come upon them during the daylight hours. I have finally reached the stage in life where I can sleep during the daytime or during the nighttime, as I wish. I have so often wondered what that would be like: to sleep when I want, to read a novel from cover to cover without moving, to begin a...
Never Can Say Goodbye…
Just like the song, I struggle with goodbyes. Many of us do. But if we don’t say goodbye and instead say “see you soon,” we can end up having friends all over the country, as well as friends all over the world. This is how I have chosen to view my dear friend and sister and Turkish teacher Muhsine’s move to Dallas. Where will I go for iftar next year? Perhaps I will go just a bit further south of Placitas. That this would happen so soon after my right arm and publicity person, Carolyn Flynn, announced that she was moving to New York, may give me false hope. Carolyn (thank you, thank you, thank you) is moving back! Might this also happen with Muhsine? I would not wish such disaster on anyone, and I am happy for Muhsine and her family, as I was happy for Carolyn,...
Easy Prey
The zebra is easy prey for lions, wild dogs and hyenas, among other predators. The zebras themselves are vegan, feeding almost exclusively on grasses. His or her stripes are unique to each individual. Like snowflakes, no two creatures are exactly alike. This is also the case for the markings on a giraffe. The giraffe is also vegan and susceptible to the same predators. For some reason, zebras and giraffes come to mind as I think of vulnerable groups living in totalitarian regimes or regimes that might be heading in that direction. Who is most vulnerable and why? They may look alike, but they are not. After the disenfranchised, obviously, journalists fall heavily into this category. When lightning strikes, there must be someone left to alert the rest of us to seek...
Letting the cat out of the bag
Thoughts on the recent publication of Myopia, a memoir In the first place, a memoir is not an autobiography, so that I was able to write about what I thought were important incidents that would emphasize the points I wished to make in writing the book. Secondly, I am in the process of retiring as a psychoanalyst and I think my patients have probably known me pretty well. They may not have had access to the details, but I’m guessing that I have, over the years, revealed much more about myself than I am aware, just by being who I am. This memoir was written, rewritten, stuffed in a box in my closet, pulled out and written and rewritten again. Initially, my sister and I thought we might write the book together, calling it “Double Vision.” My sister is an...
On learning a new language, and gaining a family
As I broke the Ramadan fast with my Turkish teacher, I took a moment to reflect For the second year in a row, my dear friend and Turkish teacher has invited my husband and me, along with our Turkish class, to break the Ramadan fast with her and her lovely family. This year has been quite a year for Muhsine Aykac, our beautiful teacher. She received her master’s degree in education a couple of weeks after becoming a United States citizen. Her husband, Salih, is working on his dissertation to receive his Ph.D. These are hard working people who are raising three beautiful children as good Muslims and good citizens in Albuquerque. We are so fortunate to know them. They have become family. And because of Muhsine’s sincere heart, we have all grown under her tutelage in...
What Does It Mean to Be “Wild and Free” in Today’s World?
As I drove up to my friends’ house the other day, this fellow was in their driveway. He was heading to the birdbath to have a drink of water. He ran off, as I pulled in, his muscles taut and strained in flight, a flash of phenomenal beauty. He returned once I was inside, and so I caught this photo from the front window. A wild horse of Placitas, he cantered wild and free. What does that even mean anymore? I struggle with this question, as I wrestle with the future of our planet, the earth that has been our home for so many years. Our President’s most recent decision to dump our country into a category of now three countries standing alone against the Paris Accords, putting us in the company of Syria and Nicaragua, has sent me into quite a funk. Even if one does...
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